


Sleepless

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fluff, Getting Together, Grimmauld Place, HP:EWE, M/M, Pointless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-14
Updated: 2008-02-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 02:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8083477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: "At least this arrangement is only temporary, he assures himself, and as his mother keeps reminding him in every letter she sends, it was rather kind of Harry Potter to take him in."





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine.

Before she kissed him goodbye, his mother told him he should be thankful to be alive, and happy to have been given a second chance at a future. After all, he could have ended up serving time in Azkaban just like his father   
  
Now, it would be a lie to say Draco isn’t relieved. To some extent, he’s even grateful, but his current surroundings do irk him enormously.   
  
At least this arrangement is only temporary, he assures himself, and as his mother keeps reminding him in every letter she sends, it was rather kind of Harry Potter to take him in.   
  
‘But then what does Mother know?’ he wonders with a wry smile. She’s living in Italy, miles from here, and in hindsight, perhaps he should have moved down there with her. That might have been easier than putting up with the unpleasantness that is number twelve, Grimmauld Place and having to endure the presence of a whole gaggle of Gryffindors besides.   
  
Draco shakes his head. Resigning himself to another sleepless night, he gets out of bed and decides to go down to the kitchen. Perhaps he’ll feel better after some hot tea and a snack.   
  
He has barely set one foot outside his bedroom, however, when the woman in the portrait starts shrieking at him again.   
  
Draco sighs. This, too, is grinding on his nerves.   
  
“Blood traitor! Sharing a house with Halfbloods and Muggleborns, some of whom are living in sin! Have you no shame? Don’t you possess one shred of common decency, young man? Didn’t your parents teach you any better? One would certainly expect a lot more from a Malfoy!”   
  
Draco grits his teeth. He doesn’t understand why no one has taken that horrible painting down yet. Surely it would be better off stashed away in a dusty attic, or they could stick it down in the cellar for the rats to gnaw at.   
  
He whips around, meets the seething woman’s gaze head on and declares without blinking: “Once Potter has finally given me my wand back, my very first point of action will be to reduce you to ashes!”   
  
“How-how dare you threaten me?” the shrill voice yells back. “You foul, blood-treacherous filth!”   
  
At that, another door flies wide open. Hermione Granger emerges. She’s wearing a pink nightdress and matching bunny slippers, but looks no less threatening for it.   
  
“What is going on here?” she demands, her left hand on her hip and her right hand waving her wand menacingly. “Have you been provoking Mrs Black again, Malfoy?”   
  
“ _Provoking_ her?” He crosses his arms in indignation. “Hardly. She’d barely laid eyes on me or started hurling insults, so I took the liberty of informing her there will be dire consequences if she keeps this up.”   
  
“Oh honestly!” Hermione rolls her eyes. “Just ignore her, Malfoy. It’s not that difficult. We do it with you all the time.”   
  
Before Draco can retort, the woman in the portrait yells, “What? A Mudblood defending me? The unbearable shame! Is there no end to this vile, disgusting, unholy…”   
  
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Hermione mutters. She aims her wand and casts a thorough _Silencio_.   
  
The woman’s lips continue to move and her face grows redder by the second, but not another sound is heard until Draco speaks again.   
  
“Tsk,” he says, smirking. “You could have just ignored her, Granger. I’ve been told it’s not that difficult.“   
  
Hermione glares. “Shut up, Malfoy. Go do whatever you intended to do and then get some sleep. She should be quiet for an hour at least.”   
  
Without another word, she strides back into her room and slams the door shut behind her.   
  
“Sweet dreams, Granger,” Draco says with a chuckle and heads downstairs.   
  
The interior of the old house looks as grim and unwelcoming as ever, but after three weeks he’s getting used to it.   
  
He opens the kitchen door and is both surprised and mildly displeased when he notices there’s someone already present.   
  
Harry Potter is seated at the table. He’s tucking into a large slice of chocolate cake and looks up to see who just came in.   
  
As their eyes meet, Draco decides it really wouldn’t be appropriate to do a runner. For one thing, Potter and himself have been getting along surprisingly well recently, and to be honest, he has to admit he is feeling quite peckish, too.   
  
“Potter,” Draco says at last, his tone carefully neutral.   
  
Harry nods. “Malfoy. Did you want a bite to eat as well?”   
  
“Er- that was the plan, yes.”   
  
Harry holds up a knife and gestures towards the tray in the middle of the table. “Cake?”   
  
“All right.” Draco takes a seat. “Thanks.”   
  
Harry grabs a plate from the kitchen counter. He cuts a piece off the cake, places it on the plate and hands it to Draco. “Help yourself to tea.”   
  
“Thanks. I don’t mind if I do.”   
  
“Couldn’t sleep?” Harry asks, focusing his attention on his own plate again.   
  
Draco shakes his head. He wonders where the forks are. Finally spotting one on the dish rack, he gets up and takes it.   
  
“You and me both,” Harry says.   
  
Draco returns to his seat and the two of them eat their cake and drink their tea in silence. It’s a strange silence, but not an unpleasant one. Both boys are wrapped up in their own thoughts and quite grateful for the peacefulness. They’ve had so little of that lately.   
  
“Well, I’d best get back to bed, then,” Draco says when he’s done. He rises from his chair and puts his plate, fork and cup in the sink. “Good night, Potter.”   
  
“Er— Draco?”   
  
He’s already halfway to the door. “Yes,” he says and turns around, slightly puzzled at the use of his first name. They’re still ‘Potter’ and ‘Malfoy’ to each other most of the time.   
  
“What are you going to do?”   
  
“How do you mean?” Draco frowns. “About what”   
  
“Well, er— will you be returning to Hogwarts with the rest of us?”   
  
“Not bloody likely.”   
  
Harry tries to keep the disappointment from showing on his face, but fails miserably. “Oh.”   
  
“Why?” Draco grins. “Miss me, would you?”   
  
“Yeah,” Harry blurts out before he can stop himself.   
  
Draco blinks. Did he just hear that correctly or is this some bizarre, lucid dream? “Wh-What?” he stammers with none of his usual eloquence.   
  
“I—er—” Harry swallows hard. “I would. Miss you, I mean.”   
  
Draco remains silent and Harry hasn’t a clue what to expect next, but he supposes that since he’s already made half a fool of himself, he might as well go the whole hog.   
  
He gets up, walks up to the other boy and kisses him; a soft kiss on the lips that’s barely even there, but it should still suffice to get the message across.   
  
Draco doesn’t react initially. He merely stands there, looking stunned. “Was that some kind of joke?” he finally manages, an odd, indefinable edge to his tone.   
  
Harry shakes his head. “No, but obviously,” he mutters, “I— I’m sorry.” He gazes down at his slipper-clad feet to hide the furious purple blush colouring his cheeks. “Obviously you don’t— I’m sorry.”   
  
Harry turns around, ready to return to his seat, so that Draco can leave him to feel like an idiot in private and they’ll deal with the consequences of his stupidity in the morning; whatever those consequences might be, but no doubt some amount of mockery will be involved.   
  
Harry stops in his tracks, however, when he feels a hand on his arm.   
  
“You can write me from Hogwarts though, can’t you?” Draco asks softly.   
  
Harry’s eyes widen. He turns around. “W-What? Write you where?”   
  
Draco shrugs. “Wherever Mother ends up sending me, which might be nowhere at all. In her last letter she mentioned private tutoring once the Manor is all ours again.“   
  
“Oh. Right,” Harry says and then he frowns. “You— do you really want me to write you?”   
  
Draco nods slowly.   
  
“Why?” Harry asks, more than a little confused.   
  
Smiling, Draco closes the distance between them again. “How else do you propose we stay in touch?”   
  
“Stay in touch? Why would you—”   
  
Draco shrugs. “Perhaps I’ll miss you too,” he says simply, and kisses him.   
  
They don’t break apart until the ugly portrait upstairs starts shrieking again.


End file.
